“But what about for everything else? Your appointments and events and whatever?”
“Texts.” I shook a sticky note that said something about beers. Or beets. Beans? I wasn’t sure. Alex had shit handwriting. “And notes.”
For the first time since I’d woken to her standing over me, she looked fucking horrified. “How… Why… How do you…?”
“Warned you my shit was a mess,” I reminded her.
She tried—and failed—to blank out her features as pink tinged her cheeks. “No, it’s fine. If this system works for you, we can adjust it to be more efficient.”
Her blush.
Her wide eyes blinking up at me.
The way she looked on the floor.
I quickly sat to hide the evidence of my rapidly hardening dick.
I thought coming would take the edge off.
I looked at her again.
At least for fifteen minutes.
Forcing myself to stay focused, I gave her the truth. “I’ve literally never thought or cared about the system, but it’s obviously a shit one since the thing for Intrepid isn’t the first appointment I’ve missed. As long as it’s easy for me, change what you want.”
“Are you sure?”
If it makes you look at me with that kind of unbridled excitement, you can torch this house around me for all I care.
I lifted my chin.
She opened her notebook, unlocked her phone and mine, and spread the sticky notes across the table—crumbling the old ones into a little pile to the side. Then she pulled out multiple pens in various colors and lined them up. “Do you have your schedule for next week?”
I snagged my phone long enough to bring up theSummeremails. “If there’s anything, it’s in there.”
Her look of horrified disgust mixed with her excitement, and there was a forced brightness in her tone. “Perfect. Once I get this organized, I’ll call Intrepid and get that squared away, too.” She kept her gaze on the table in front of her. “You don’t have to hang out in here.”
“I’m good.”
She finally lifted her focus to me like she was going to argue but changed her mind. Gesturing over her shoulder to the TV, she said, “At least turn that on.”
“It won’t distract you?”
“Nope.”
I grabbed the remote and turned on the first shitty movie I came across. It could’ve been an early preview of the best movie ever made, and I still wouldn’t have been able to pull my attention from Greer as she worked.
Especially when she kept bouncing the top of her pen against her fuckable bottom lip.
I held off as long as I could, but there was only so much a man could take.
I need a fucking break, or I’m going to pass out from lack of blood flow to my brain.
“Can I see my phone?” When she passed it over, I opened a delivery app. “I need coffee and food.”
She pushed away from the table. “Give me your order, and I’ll go pick it up.”
“No.”
